


Creative Writing Collection

by Raef_Darksbane



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, College, Fantasy, Gen, Magic and Science, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Short One Shot, Shorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28744668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raef_Darksbane/pseuds/Raef_Darksbane
Summary: A bunch of short stories that I'm writing or have for my Creative Writing and Publishing courses. Posting them here as well as a way to hopefully get more feedback than the limited amount I receive due to a smaller class size. So needless to say, please let me know what you like or think could be improved here. The eventual goal is to submit at least a couple of these for publication.To be clear, this is all ORIGINAL CONTENT. While some of the stories do draw inspiration from other sources (what doesn't, nowadays?), everything, ultimately, is my own creation.
Kudos: 1





	1. Roción

The harsh winter sunlight filtered through the thick, leafy canopy high above Kaira’s head. The catkin stretched, admiring the way the light played off the spotted patterns of her fur. While its coloring wasn’t as optimally suited as that of the jaguars that lived in the area—her fur was light gray as opposed to their bright-pale yellow—she believed that, combined with the beige vest and khakis she wore, it would serve as suitable camouflage for her current mission.

Or rather, her first mission. The Guild had been quite impressed with her application and her admittance into their numbers as a Scavenger had been quick. Kaira had thought that she would have to wait until she was given her first assignment. She had been disabused of this notion when her recruiter, Miya, had informed Kaira that she was bound for the remnants of the city at the edge of the Mazo rain forest.

Miya had also started training her then and there. Until that day, Kaira had never met a human before and hadn’t really known what to expect. Miya proved to Kaira quickly that, despite being in her sixth decade and not being quite as fast or as strong as she was, humans were not to be underestimated.

When she had finally deemed Kaira ready, Miya had informed her that she was searching for a purple crystal about as long as her forearm. The Guild had gathered rumors and tales of this crystal, apparently a remnant of Human tech before the majority of humanity had vanished in the Crisis. Miya didn’t know what her ancestors’ technology was capable of; she did, however, warn Kaira that the crystal was rumored to have a guardian.

_ ‘As if any guard would be a match for me.’  _ She wouldn’t even have to fight, theoretically. Just get in, bag the crystal, get out. Easy.

Which brought her here, to the edge of the jungle. Massive trees towered overhead, their leaves so thick that only flickers of light made it through and their roots shredding the eroding pavement of the road she walked. Birdsong drifted through the air, and occasionally she would catch flashes of yellows and reds darting between branch and bush. 

Eventually, the underbrush began to recede, and Kaira began to see the remnants of clay and stucco structures. The first few were nothing more than a few crumbling waist-high walls, and even those that she could see wouldn’t last more than another year or so. Those gradually shifted the further into the reclaimed town she walked, becoming taller and eventually forming whole buildings. Most weren’t that tall, and several had young trees growing out of them, bursting through roofs and walls to reach toward the sky. Some of the buildings had been crushed by fallen logs, but most were remarkably intact.

Kaira came to a stop in front of one such house where the growing forest had turned the building into an atrium. She’d made this far, but… where was she supposed to go now? After a few moments, Kaira sighed and reached into her bag for the map Miya had given her. She’d wanted to prove that she didn’t need a map for something like this, but Miya had insisted that things had changed. Just another thing that the human had been right about. Grumbling to herself, she unfolded the old plastic square, revealing the cityscape as it had been decades ago.

“I came in through the north-east road,” she murmured, tracing the line that she had followed. It ran straight through the ancient city before veering back off to the east. She didn’t follow it that far though, instead tapping the south-western section of the city. “And the crystal is supposed to be in some collector’s house over here. Shouldn’t be too difficult. I might even be able to use one of these old buildings to take a cat-nap.”

Satisfied, Kaira stashed the map and loped off down the road once more. The buildings and houses quickly grew more elaborate, changing from low, flat cubes to multi-level complexes that seemed to have their own walkways between the levels. She started to pass cars parked along the side of the street and more than a few that had crashed into each other, probably when their drivers vanished. Even someone untrained in mechanics like Kaira could tell that these weren’t good for much besides scrap at this point. 

The city, however, she could see being repopulated. While the species of cat that had been used to make her variety of catkin had been from colder climates, the vast majority of her people loved the warmth. She could easily see her village setting up in these old houses and making it home.  _ ‘Actually, I might just mention that to Elder Shufu when I get back.’ _

Despite that realization, the ruins were a bit creepy. Most of the windows she passed were just holes in the clay buildings, shadowed openings into the dark interiors. Doors creaked as they swung lazily on their hinges. Decaying clothes and rusted devices littered the streets, forming haphazard piles that were the only sign of the previous occupants.

Perhaps the creepiest thing, however, was that occasionally Kaira would pass a house or storefront that looked like it was still inhabited. It wasn’t ever anything obvious, like lights being on or a visualizer playing or actual people appearing. It was little things, like how that house had neat little window planters that had recently been tended, or the shop a few blocks further in with a door that looked freshly painted, or the block beyond that that was somehow filled with the overwhelming scent of freshly-baked flat bread. Kaira shook herself, trying to keep her fur from standing on end, and sped up.  _ ‘Then again, maybe I’ll wait to tell the elder.’ _

After what seemed like hours and several map checks later, Kaira finally arrived at the block of the city where her target was. According to Miya’s information, the collector’s house should be just down the next street. Kaira turned the corner and pulled up short in surprise.

Instead of rows of large private homes, the road ran ahead to a manor or mansion of some kind with its own courtyard, the gates leading to which were closed. Even the road was fancier; instead of the gold-tinged pavement that she was used to, the road leading up to the manor was made up of gold flagstones that shimmered and flickered in the shafts of light from overhead. Kaira knelt and tried to pry one of the cobblestones loose, but couldn’t so much as get it to budge.

“Guy must have been some kind of Auric if he had enough gold to pave his entire street in the stuff.” Kaira padded up to the gates, staring up at the brilliant metalwork. “Now I just need to get inside.”

Before she could move further, the gates shuddered and slowly swung open, revealing the inner courtyard. Kaira shivered again, but tried to shrug away her feeling of discomfort. Rich people didn’t like opening doors, right? Maybe the guy had had a motion sensor installed. A really good one, one that would keep running long after the building had ceased to be powered.

Still, the freaky gate had made more than one thing easier for her. The courtyard looked like an extension of the forest outside of the city, with large bushes and juvenile trees sprouting haphazardly all over the place. Little odds and ends stuck out of the greenery; the remnants of a fountain, what looked like the hood of a car, and assorted metal bits and bobs that looked like handles. 

Kaira squinted at one of the objects as she stepped through the get and managed to make out what looked like a rusty sword, its blade snapped close to the hilt. Another cursory inspection revealed that many of the objects were, in fact, old weapons in various states of disuse. “So, he collected more than just oddities. Curious.”

The only area clear of foliage was the center of the courtyard, covered in the same gold cobblestone and occupied by a statue of a kneeling figure. In front of the statue was a little pedestal with an amethyst as long as her arm  _ floating _ over it.

“And there it is. Purrrrfect.”

Kaira couldn’t help but feel jubilant as she approached the statue. This was the easiest job that she could have hoped for! The crystal was right out in the open; she wouldn’t have to search the manor after all. She came to stop in front of the amethyst. It seemed so easy. She reached out to grab it, but hesitated, her fingers centimeters from the purple surface. It seemed  _ too _ easy.

Without touching the gemstone, Kaira peered behind it at the statue, noticing for the first time how truly odd it was. It depicted a kneeling knight, its head slumped forward and its arms slumped to its side. The metal of its armor was bright and shiny, but Kaira’s eyes were drawn to the knight’s sword, which had been stabbed through its back.

It really was a weird thing to have on prominent display for possible visitors. Kaira’s eyes flicked between it and the giant gemstone before narrowing. She growled and, keeping her eyes on the statue, grabbed the crystal.

_ Thuuum. _

A violent vibration ripped through Kaira’s body, followed by an immense, overwhelming  _ presence _ . It felt like hundreds of thousands of eyes were trained on her, watching her every move. Kaira looked around with wide eyes, trying to locate her watchers, but didn’t see anyone.

WHY HAVE YOU COME TO ROCIÓN, CATKIN?

Kaira’s head whipped back around to stare at the floating gemstone. The voice that she had heard had sounded like many people speaking at the same time, and it seemed to be coming from... the crystal?

As she examined it, the amethyst seemed to shimmer and an internal violet light. She swallowed as the presence seemed to press against her thoughts before forcing herself to grin. “Why, I came for you, strange talking crystal! I need to take you back so I can join the Guild.

The gemstone  _ pulsed _ in her hand, and she could feel its displeasure at her statement. Light swirled within it, casting a faint purple glow across her.

UNACCEPTABLE. THIS IS NOT THE WILL OF ROCIÓN. WE ARE AFRAID THAT YOUR QUEST IS IN VAIN, LITTLE CATKIN.

Kaira barely had time to register its words before it pulsed once more ceased to glow. The massive group presence disappeared as a small wisp of violet smoke separated itself from the crystal. It drifted around its origin for a moment before zipping over to the statue and disappearing through its visor.

The statue’s head snapped upwards as little violet lights sprang to life where its eyes should have been. Kaira yelped and stumbled back as the statue surged upwards. Its arm twisted around behind its back and grasped the hilt of the sword, and Kaira could only watch in horror as the knight drew the sword from its chest, leaving a gaping, empty gash in its place that leaked purple vapor.

She barely had time to register that this was probably not a good thing when the knight lunged at her. Kaira hissed as it sliced into her cheek on its way past, and instinctively she lashed out, kicking the statue in its back as it went past. It toppled over, giving Kaira a moment to stash the amethyst.

Her moment of respite didn’t last long. That possessed armor hauled itself back to its feet and swung around, its violet gaze settling on her as it fell into some kind of sword stance. Despite the danger and the blood matting the fur on her face, Kaira couldn’t help but feel a thrill run through her.

_ This _ is what being a Scavenger for The Guild was all about. Finding treasure and facing danger to take it home. She tilted her head to the side and gestured at the statue to come and get her.

It didn’t wait for a second invitation. It slashed at her in a low, horizontal swing, one that she was easily able to jump past. She dodged its subsequent attacks, and laughed as it lunged at her again, missing entirely this time. That laughter turned to a wheeze of pain as the knight’s fist buried itself in her stomach. 

All of the air went out of her body in a rush, and she stumbled away from the knight. All the padding in her vest hadn’t done a thing to soften the blow.  _ ‘Don’t get cocky, Kaira! You have a murder statue coming after you. You can’t outrun it, and you can’t beat it with just your fists.’ _

She shakily ducked around another swipe of the knight’s sword and cast her eyes around the courtyard, searching for anything she could use.  _ ‘Plants, the pedestal, more plants. The bricks outside are too heavy for me to—wait, what’s that?’ _

Kaira dove away from the knight and rolled to a stop near the edge of the clearing. Sticking out of the undergrowth was a metal bar with a leather grip. Hearing the clanking of the statue’s footsteps behind her, Kaira grabbed it and whipped it out of the bush, praying that it would stop the sword she knew was leveled at her back.

_ CLANG! _

_ Snap! _

The top half of the knight’s sword flew off into the bushes, leaving the statue holding a blade not much longer than a dagger. Kaira stared at it in surprise before looking at the object in her hands.

It was a mace. An ornate one. Twisting patterns of bronze were etched into the otherwise smooth chrome sphere of the mace’s head. A word seemed was engraved on the handle, but Kaira didn’t have time to read it as the knight swung at her again. She leaned away from the blow and heaved the mace towards the statue’s legs.

_ Crnch! _

The knight toppled, its leg a mangled mess of metal. Kaira didn’t wait for it to recover, swinging the mace up and over her, bringing it down on the guardian’s helmet.

_ CRNCH! _

The helmet caved in from the force of the blow. Kaira systematically crushed the armor’s arms and legs, determined to ensure that it wouldn’t come after her. Finally, she stopped and investigated her handiwork.

The statue was an unrecognizable pile of scrap metal. What hadn’t been pounded flat had been broken off and separated from the main body. She’d managed to complete the hole in the knight’s chest, revealing an empty cavern where a body should have been. All that was really left of the guardian was the eyes, and as Kaira watched, they faded away.

She breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed on the ground next to the creature. “You put up a great fight, rusty. You almost had me. If I hadn’t found this mace, I might not have made it.”

Speaking of which. Kaira hefted the weapon again and turned it to get a look at the inscription. It was made up of unfamiliar letters, and she was about to chalk it up as something to ask Miya about when the symbols shifted. As she watched, the letters shimmered and slithered about, forming a single word.

Silence.

Kaira grinned. “So you’re Silence, huh? Well, thanks for your help. With you around, I shouldn’t need anyone else.”

The mace was silent, and Kaira laughed. It was just a weapon, but somehow Kaira felt that it might be something more. She stood up and used a piece of the knight’s armor to fashion a holder for the weapon before turning and walking out of the courtyard and back up the street. She couldn’t wait to tell Miya and her people about her adventure.


	2. A Small Step and a Giant Leap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An engineer-turned-astronaut tests the first prototype warp drive, and things don't got entirely as expected.

Jarid Demic fidgeted restlessly, spinning his helmet around in his hands as he watched the drones finish the last preliminary check on the  _ Manifest Destiny _ through one of the ISSX’s prep room windows. The cradle, or body, of the vessel wasn’t much more than a glorified brick; it was just big enough for a cockpit, airlock, and sublight engine. Investors had decided that smaller was better for humanity’s first star ship, and so had made the cradle as small as possible while focusing the rest of their investment into the twin rings that surrounded the stem and stern of the craft. The engineer-turned-astronaut had helped with the prototype himself and was pretty proud of those rings. They symbolized something that scientists had long thought impossible.

Warp drive. Faster-than-light propulsion that worked around the speed of light instead of against it. Jarid’s heartbeat quickened just thinking about it. Here was something he’d only ever dreamed about, something he’d only ever seen on  _ Star Trek _ and in video games, turned into a reality. It would make travel and transport to Mars One simple, making sustaining the colony easier—and he was the one who got to  _ test _ it!

Underneath his excitement, however, Jarid could feel an underlying sense of unease. He was pretty sure that it would run according to the specs. It was that  _ pretty _ that worried him though, and he hadn’t tried to hide his relief when Command had decided to do a once-over of Earth’s first starship. Everyone knew that if anything went wrong, he would be on his own. Better to catch problems now than when he was floating out next to Mars.

After a few minutes, the drones started to drift away. He winced as his earpiece crackled to life, followed by the faintly accented voice of Maria Popov, the physicist in charge at Command. “Drones have completed their scans, and the  _ Destiny _ appears to be in good shape. You’re the last piece of equipment we need to check; how’re you holding up, Jarid?”

Jarid smiled; once a worrywart, always a worrywart. “I’m fine, Masha, especially now that everything has checked out on the  _ Destiny _ .”

“That’s Administrator Popov to you, Commander.” Despite the clipped tone, Jarid thought he could detect the hints of a smile in his childhood friend’s voice. “In any case, you remember your briefing?”

His smile widened. “Yes, ma’am-sha. I am to jump the  _ Destiny _ to Mars, run diagnostics and report back, jettison the supplies for Mars One, and then return jump. Estimated time is between about one and two hours.”

“Glad to see that someone’s paid attention. You’re cleared to enter the craft. Once you’re strapped in, we’ll walk you through spin up. Remember to use the ship’s comm system; we need to make sure that works.”

“Ma’am!” Jarid saluted, though he knew Masha couldn’t see, and set off down the corridor, marveling again at the station’s design. The International Space StationX, or ISSX for short, had been the solution when the aging ISS had been retired decades ago. SpaceX had stepped in and created a sleek, modular station shaped like a tube with rings around it. The tube portion of the station was built in such a way to allow different modules to be added or removed as needed, allowing for a large degree of versatility. That included prep room Jarid had been waiting in and the shipyard module that had been attached at the end that he was heading for.

He passed through the door to the module, and there it was. At the end of the boarding tube, the  _ Manifest Destiny _ ’s open airlock beckoned to him, the white glow of the new lights warm and inviting. Jarid surveyed the corridor before sliding through the archway, pausing long enough on the other side to pop his helmet on and twist it shut, sealing it in place. As he did so, the door behind him closed and sealed. With the option to turn back lost, Jarid pulled himself forward and entered the airlock.

Once he was inside, he tapped a few buttons on the control panel inside the airlock, and the door to the station swiveled closed. The small room wasn’t much more than a cube with three doors, one allowing access to the engines, one to the docking platform, and the third to the cockpit. Jarid waited while the rest of the ship was pressurized, and after a few moments, the round cockpit door spun open.

_ ‘It’s just like Star Trek!’ _ Jarid’s grin widened as he pulled himself onto the pilot’s chair and strapped himself down. After a moment of examining the controls, he placed his hands on the dashboard and started the process of bringing the ship to life. His nerves calmed as his fingers danced and flickered along the board, flipping switches and typing in the familiar commands. One of the consoles beside his chair shimmered and lit up, bringing up a display of the ship’s diagnostics. The lights dimmed behind him, and quiet static filled the cabin as he flipped on the radio. Once the initial systems were on, he nodded to himself and flipped the ignition.

_ Fwuuuuuum. _

The quiet hum of the reactor started to rumble through the ship and up through the soles of his suit. He let it run for a minute before checking the levels on the screen above the diagnostics screen. Good, everything looked to be steady. 

Now he just needed permission to proceed. Jarid took a deep breath and twiddled with the radio settings. The static disappeared, and he glanced around, looking for a mic. When he couldn’t find one, he took another breath and said, hesitantly, “Command, do you read?”

Masha’s voice crackled through the speakers. “We read you loud and clear,  _ Destiny _ . What’s your status?”

Jarid glanced over the diagnostics screens. “All systems are online and operational. Reactor levels are nominal and the craft is sealed. We’re ready, Command.”

The comm crackled with satisfaction. “Good. ISSX will release the docking clamps in just a moment. When they do, maneuver around until you’re on the outbound vector. We need to know how the  _ Destiny _ handles sublight flight.”

“Acknowledged.”

As Jarid spoke, the  _ Destiny _ shuddered as the docking clamps released the vessel. He knew that the boarding ramp would be retracting, but to be safe, he triggered the ship’s lateral thrusters. Slowly, carefully, he pulled the ship away from the station, using another screen and an external camera to monitor his progress. After a few moments, he decided that he was far enough away and manipulated the thrusters to spin the ship around to face the correct vector. He punched the coordinates into his computer, and yet another screen lit up with an estimated time of arrival. “Command, this is  _ Manifest Destiny.  _ I am in position and ready for spin up.”

“Good work, Commander. Now, we’re not going to have you spin up to Warp One. While light speed would be a good test, we also don’t want to push too far on the first trial run, and the shrinks think you might miss the planet anyway.”

Jarid snorted. The “shrink” Masha was referencing was probably herself. “Noted. So we’re only doing increments?”

“Correct. Once you’re ready, set the ship to spin up to Warp Point-Three and to spin down by the time you reach the coordinates. If everything goes well, you should drop into orbit above Mars in ten-point-seven-five minutes.”

The radio briefly went silent before Masha continued, more quietly than before. “And Jarid? Do be careful.”

Jarid opened his mouth, then closed it, swallowing his flippant comment as he registered her tone. Instead, he said, “I will. See you in a few hours.  _ Destiny _ out.”

With that, he flipped the radio to standby and fiddled with the warp settings, setting the drive to max out at point-three. As he did so, the estimated time of arrival changed to display 10:45 in bright orange numerals. Jarid nodded to himself and reached for the throttle, but hesitated.  _ ‘I’m missing something _ .’ His eyes swept the cabin, searching for anything out of place. Everything seemed to be in order; the coordinates were set, all systems were green, the charm was—

_ ‘That’s the problem!’ _ His charm wasn’t out yet. Jarid flipped open one of the many pockets of his flight suit and extracted a small object, which he tied to a small handle protruding from the ceiling. He smiled up at the little plastic man in its blue space suit. The LEGO man had a look of absolute delight on its face, and Jarid couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked at it. “Spaceship indeed, little man.” With the last piece in place, Jarid grabbed the throttle and carefully pulled it down its track. 

The pinpricks of distant stars elongated as the ship seemingly lurched forward, and as Jarid watched, they faded from streaks into a sort of constant, faint glow. Under his feet, the hum of the engine deepened into a steady roar, and the ship’s diagnostics showed that it was currently operating at about ten percent of maximum capacity. He nodded to himself and sat back, watching the timer. So far, so good. Now just to sit back and wait.

At forty-five seconds to arrival, Jarid roused himself from his mild meditation and surveyed the systems again. Everything was still in working order. Excellent.

At thirty seconds to arrival, Jarid tightened his seatbelt, just in case something did go wrong and he had to land on Mars. Assuming he was able to drop from warp in time to land on Mars.

At fifteen seconds, Jarid placed his hand on the throttle again and slowly slid it forward.

The roar went back to a hum and the white glow faded back to streaks of light, except this time, a massive red glow joined them from the upper portion of the canopy. The  _ Manifest Destiny _ dropped back into real space overlooking a red, barren world with frozen ice caps. The only thing marring the desolate landscape was a series of domes clustered together.

Jarid clapped his hands together and danced a little in his seat. “Hot damn, it actually worked!” He grinned up at his little spaceman companion before flipping the radio back into its active configuration. “Mars One, this is  _ Manifest Destiny _ reporting in at… five hundred miles above surface. Do you copy?”

The radio was silent, and Jarid took the opportunity to go over diagnostics. Everything seemed to be in peak condition, and Jarid noted that the reactor was back to two percent capacity. ‘ _ Excellent. We’ll just ping Command with the diagnostics report and wait for their orders.’ _

After a few moments, a deep, male voice crackled through the speakers. “Hell, that prototype actually worked? Er, that is, we read you, Commander.”

The astronaut laughed. “It worked surprisingly well, Mars. I’ve got a small supply shipment for you. Where would you like me to drop it?”

The man’s voice was filled with relief. “The medical supplies we requested! If you could drop them a click or so outside the colony, we can send a rover to retrieve them. I’ll send you coordinates for a good drop zone.”

“Acknowledged.” Jarid watched the string of numbers come in before punching in several commands into the computer. The ship rumbled, and through the external camera display he watched a rectangular canister eject from the stern ring. He winced as it bounced off of the drive exterior, but it right itself quickly enough and began a controlled descent toward Mars’ surface. Jarid thanked the stars that the Martian atmosphere was thin; otherwise, he probably would have had to try a manual delivery.

“Supplies launched, Mars. They should touch down in the next thirty minutes.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Commander. While you’re here, could we send you back with several data packets and research dockets?”

Jarid thought for a moment before nodding. “I don’t see why not. Go ahead and send them my way. Ping me when they’re uploaded; until then, I need to wait for orders from Command.”

“Sure thing. Good luck, and Godspeed on your return trip. Mars out.”

The radio went silent again. Jarid monitored the packets as they started to come in and nodded to himself. The folks back at home would be pleased with these indeed. Curious, he opened one detailing some of the engineering difficulties the colonists had encountered and was quickly engrossed in their challenges. 

He got so pulled into the paper that when the radio pinged a few minutes later he jolted out of his chair. Or would have, had he not been strapped in still. As it was, he jerked against his seatbelt so suddenly that he almost ended any possibility of future Demics. While he was cursing quietly under his breath, a second ping came over the radio, followed by Masha’s voice.

“ _ Destiny _ , this is Command. We’ve received your report and you are clear for your return trip. We’ve sent you coordinates near the ISSX to allow for minimal sunlight travel; the engineers want to examine the ship’s logs in detail with minimal strain. Follow the same spin-up procedures. Godspeed.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll follow  _ your _ procedures,” Jarid grumbled as he rubbed his gut, “right after you learn to give a guy some warning before barging into his room, Masha.” The pain faded as he fired the maneuvering thrusters to spin the ship around. Once it was facing the right way, he punched in his final set of coordinates and pulled the throttle back. The reactor roar increased as the stars disappeared, and he was once again in warp.

“Well, I guess we can chalk this mission up as a success,” he murmured, picking up where he had left off in the engineering document.

At five minutes and thirty-seven seconds, a quiet alert pulled Jarid’s attention away from the document. He glanced up at the diagnostics’ display and noticed that a small section of the stern ring-drive wasn’t responding. He frowned and pulled up the full report on the section, and his eyes widened as he read through it. The malfunctioning section was one of two delimiter components responsible for bringing the ship out of warp. With it not operating, the  _ Destiny  _ might not drop from warp in time. 

“Well, that’s not good.” Jarid stared at the screen for a moment before jerking around to face the rest of the controls. With the ship damaged, it was probably best to drop from warp early and do repairs. He pushed the throttle back into neutral.

The ship didn’t slow. Another alarm sounded, and Jarid’s eyes went wider still as the timer tracking the remaining time in warp jumped from four minutes and forty-two seconds to two minutes and ten seconds left. Power consumption jumped to twenty-seven percent and slowly continued to climb. The thrumming of the reactor’s vibrations picked up until he was sure that the small craft was going to shake itself apart.

“Shit, that’s not frigging good at all!” Jarid tried again with the throttle, but nothing happened. He quickly pulled up the console and typed in a few commands, trying to reroute power from the faulty delimiter to the functioning one, but that didn’t seem to work. He didn’t dare try changing the target coordinates mid-flight; there was no telling what might happen or where he would end up if it worked.

Thirty seconds until arrival. Jarid slumped over in his chair and looked at his little charm. He wondered if its look of delight would change to one of horror when they crashed. “That’s it, little guy. I’ve done everything I can. Looks like you, me, and everyone else back home is gonna go down with the ship.”

Fifteen seconds. Was the little guy looking at something? Jarid followed its plastic gaze and noticed a pair of buttons over the throttle. His eyes widened again as he realized what they were, and before he could think the action through, he had slammed his hand down on the right button labeled “Spin Down.”

_ FWAAAAM! _

_ BOOOOM! _

With a lurch that threw Jarid against his restraints and a catastrophically loud explosion that set his ears ringing, the  _ Manifest Destiny _ dropped out of warp. Jarid shook his head to try and get the ringing to stop while he looked over the damage reports. They didn’t look good. Both rings had been severely damaged from the sudden spin-down, and at least part of the engine room had been blown open. The door between the airlock and the cabin had been sealed to prevent any further loss of atmosphere, rendering the rest of the  _ Destiny _ uninhabitable. Power capacity was down to less than half, and usage was up to fifty percent of that.

But he was alive. More importantly, when he looked out the window he could see Earth in the distance. He slumped over in his chair and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the Lord, we did it.”

After he collected himself, Jarid activated the main engine at minimal power. Ever so slowly, the  _ Destiny _ began to creep forward. Once his course was set, he reached over and thumbed on the radio. “Command, this is  _ Manifest Destiny _ .” He paused to touch his still-grinning LEGO charm. “We’re in need of some repairs, but we’ve made it safe and sound.”


	3. The Truth is Out There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A college student has an encounter straight out of the X-Files.

Terry groaned and rolled himself into a sitting position. His head was  _ pounding _ ; what had Lehi served at that party last night? Whatever it had been, it had left Terry with a killer hangover. He started to feel around for his phone to see what time it was. Even when he was drunk, he always managed to put his phone on its spot on the nightstand. It should be right about… here. 

But it wasn’t. Terry frowned and shook his head, trying to clear away the fog in his brain. Maybe he had laid down on the wrong side of the bed? He felt his way over to the other side, but there wasn’t anything there either. Terry pried his eyes open and winced from the sudden sharp, white light. Slowly, his eyes adjusted, and he spotted his problem.

The nightstand wasn’t there. In fact, his  _ room _ wasn’t there. Instead of his cramped college dorm room, he was in some kind of spacious sci-fi room. The walls, instead of being covered in posters of girls and mechs, were a sleek light green and curved ever so slightly toward the roof. The bed was some kind of fold-out bed. Nothing luxurious, but still a damn sight more comfy than his dorm bed. He glanced around the room, noting that there were no openings other than the door opposite him and an open doorway through which he could see a sleek, oval toilet.

_ “ _ What was in those  _ drinks _ ?” Terry muttered as got up to check the other room. It was just a small cubicle with a urinal and what looked like a sink of some kind, though Terry couldn’t figure out how to turn it on. He scratched his head and padded over to the door. He reached out a hand to push (there wasn’t a handle) a sudden realization crossed his mind.

Lehi didn’t drink, and had agreed to host the New Year’s party as long as everyone in their friend group had understood that he wouldn’t be providing alcohol. As far as Terry could remember, he’d only had pop, some Sprite or something, and he definitely hadn’t lit up. In fact, he felt remarkably well-rested other than his lingering headache, and even that was subsiding, something that hangovers never did this quickly.

Which meant that this was all real.

Terry’s breathing hitched and his legs felt shaky. He slid down onto the floor next to the door and closed his eyes. What had happened? He had left the party late, sure, but not late enough that he was at risk of being arrested. He remembered walking back from Lehi’s apartment. He had been crossing the small park—not much more than a snow-covered patch of grass with a few benches—between their complexes. He’d almost reached his building when he’d been blinded by a light…

His brow furrowed, but no matter how much Terry searched, he couldn’t remember what had happened after he had seen the light. Just a brief, excruciating flash of pain like needles being shoved into his eyes, and then—nothing.

Had he been kidnapped? That was the only thing that made sense, but at the same time, he didn’t know why he would have been. He was an okay student, and his parents weren’t rich or famous or anything. And most of his friends had been at the party, so it probably wasn’t a joke thing.

_ Schnck. _

Terry looked up at the door. A small section of the wall next to the door had slid open. Terry scrambled to his feet to investigate and discovered a small panel with several buttons. More importantly, one of the buttons seemed to be labeled in a similar way to the open-door button in elevators. He pushed it.

_ Whooosh. _

The door slid open, revealing another room similar in appearance to his. Instead of a bed, a round table was situated in the center of the room, and another door stood closed on the other side of the room.

It was the table itself that caught Terry’s attention. Or, rather, the objects on the table. On the side of the table close to him was a small box with a note card on it. Terry walked over to examine it, and as he got close, the floor opened and a silvery green chair with a small, narrow back swiveled up for him. He hesitated only a moment before taking the offered seat and picking up the card.

It turned out to be instructions written in all caps, almost like the instructions had been taken from a newspaper headline.

PLEASE HOLD SKY BUTTON AND ANNUNCIATE NAME, GALACTIC AGE, AND OCCUPATION. ONCE COMPLETED, CARESS GRASS.

Terry's eyes flicked to the box, which had both a green and a blue button. What did they mean by galactic age? And what was a Sky button? Did they mean the blue button on the box? He glanced back at the paper for a moment before shrugging and pushing the button.  _ ‘Might as well.’ _

“Um, I’m Terry Weeks. I don’t know what you mean by galactic age, but I’m twenty-three, if that helps, and I’m an Engineering student at Virginia Tech. Oh, and this button is blue, not sky.” He paused, and then added, “Um, can you tell me what the hell is going on here?”

He closed his mouth and looked for… grass to caress?  _ ‘I don’t think whoever did this knows English. Maybe they meant press the green button?’  _ He stopped holding the blue button and pressed the green.

Nothing happened. Terry was just about to put the box down when it started to vibrate. Another card appeared out of the side of the device through a crack so small that Terry couldn’t see it. Like the first, this one had writing on it. Unlike the first, it appeared much more coherent.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION AND THE NEEDED CORRECTION, TERRY WEEKS. DIRECTOR XRI’KNOR WILL SPEAK WITH YOU MOMENTARILY. YOUR QUESTIONS WILL BE ANSWERED.

Terry barely had time to read the message before the door on the other side of the room swooshed open. Terry glanced up—and recoiled in surprise at the figure entering the room.

The figure was gigantic, easily seven or eight feet tall. It was human shaped and wore a silvery white uniform with black slacks, but that was where all similarities ended. Instead of skin, the entire figure seemed to be made out of rock. Every bit of exposed ‘skin’ was craggy and rough and dark, and Terry thought he could hear the faintest scraping sounds as it moved.

Amid the dark rock were what looked like veins of gold. The veins ran up and down the creature’s exposed arms and face and twisted around its eyes, which looked like a liquid version of the gold. Golden spikes jutted out of the figure’s head and over its shoulders, looking like metallic dreadlocks.

The overall effect was like an Olympian titan had come to life and determined to impose its will on the world. Terry stared as the creature stepped up to the table and took the seat that swiveled out of the ground. As it sat, a deep rumble filled the room.

“Do not be alarmed, little Terran. I wish to first explain that neither I nor my crew mean you any harm.”

“Your crew?” Terry glanced at the door and back at the rock monster. “You mean, I’m on a ship of some sort? Who are you people? What do you want?”

“You are alarmed,” the monster noted. “I specifically requested that you not be alarmed.”

“You’d be scared too if you discovered your kidnappers had a habit for cosplay.”

Terry flinched as the rocky being scraped its fingers together. The grinding sound echoed off of the walls of the room, and he realized that though he had heard the creature quite clearly, he hadn’t actually seen it speak. The rock groaned again, followed by the deep voice. “This thing, cosplay, is not a familiar concept to us. But I assure you, we mean you and yours no harm. In fact, we hope that you might be able to help us.”

_ ‘Help? What does it mean?’ _ Terry eyed the creature before slowly uncurling himself from the ball he had unthinkingly pulled himself into. “Um, sure? You never answered my question.”

“Forgive me,” the voice said, “I had thought it prudent to reassure you first. I am—” The voice cut off, and the air was filled with what sounded like a boulder bouncing down a rocky slope. Just as quickly as it had cut out, the voice resumed speaking. “—though in your language, I suppose the closest approximation would be Landslide. And yes, you are on our ship. We are but a humble research vessel seeking out truth.”

A giggle escaped Terry’s throat before he could repress it. “A research vessel? What are you, aliens from Star Trek?”

The rock person, Landslide, grated its fingers together again. “We are extraterrestrials, yes.”

Terry’s giggle died as the voice’s words registered. “Y-you are? Then how are you speaking English?”

Landslide’s golden eyes seemed to glow even brighter as it rumbled, and the voice laughed so loudly that the room seemed to shake. “But I am not! This room serves as a translator, as most beings cannot comprehend our language. This is how my voice would sound were I able to speak your tongue.”

Terry swallowed. “Okay. S-so, what do you need me for?”

The rumbling subsided back into a quiet rockfall. “For years, the galactic community has observed Terra. Research vessels have interacted with test subjects before sending them back to their homes. We have witnessed firsthand the leaps and bounds your people have taken in their quest for knowledge. Why, a score of decades ago, you hadn’t even mastered electricity, and now look at you! You’ve harnessed the elements and have made your first forays away from your home. Such incredible advances in such a short amount of time has led the different factions to question whether Humanity is ready to take its place in the greater community, and if we should aid in that introduction.

“My people are slow to act, and that allows us to see a great distance down the road. We deliberated and decided to ask you Terrans. We may pronounce judgments from on high, but we are not familiar with the first-hand knowledge required to make the decision for you. So, Terry Weeks, student of Virginia Tech, we would ask your opinion on the matter.”

The room fell silent as Landslide finished rumbling. Terry opened his mouth and closed his mouth several times.  _ ‘They want us to join them! That’s frigging amazing! Think of the things we could learn, the sights we could see…’ _

Terry grinned; how could he turn down an offer like that? He opened his mouth to answer, but then another thought struck his mind. “Wait, why did you pick me? I’m flattered, but I’m no one special.”

Landslide slowly tapped its fingers together. “We wanted an honest opinion. Leaders tend to hoard power, and that can blind them. You are, as you say, a common man. Your views will be different.”

A heavy weight settled on Terry’s shoulders. “You want me to make a decision for my entire race?”

“No. We want your opinion on the matter.”

Terry swallowed again. ‘ _ Not asking for much, is it?’ _ He sat back and tried to think through the matter. This could be massive for humans. Their technology would skyrocket, and they could use that to increase standard of living for everyone. And if sci-fi was even close to being correct, having humans around could be useful for the other species. It might even make selecting officials easier. Terry’s thoughts turned to the recent election, and his mouth twisted down. Was that much of a jump really a good idea?

After a few minutes, Terry looked back up at the alien. “As much good as it would do, I don’t think that we’re ready for that yet.”

Landslide’s golden hair clinked as it cocked its head to the side, the first humanlike gesture Terry had seen from it. “Curious. Why do you say that, young Terran?”

Terry took a deep breath. “I think that we would benefit greatly from the technology that your people and the rest of the galaxy could share with us. I think it would solve a lot of problems that our people face, eliminate a lot of diseases and give everyone a better life. 

“But I also think that we would abuse it. Our leaders are mostly power hungry, and while I’ve heard that there are a few good ones… I worry about how they would react. We can be pretty warlike, not to mention dense. I think we might accidentally start a war we couldn’t win, and we’d be too stubborn to back down. Not to mention that we wouldn’t learn nearly as much as if we were to figure this stuff out on our own.” Terry fidgeted for a moment before adding, “So no, I don’t think the galactic community should help us get to the stars.”

The room was silent for a moment before Landslide finally responded. “You show wisdom for one so young. We will take this into consideration along with any other testimonies we receive. Thank you, Terry Weeks.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Terry glanced around the green room. “So… what happens now?”

“Now we send you back home. We apologize, but you will likely suffer head pains once more. Your personal physiology is not entirely compatible with our transportation technology.” The rock alien stood, a living mountain towering over the rest of the room. “If you will return to your room and rest on your bed, we will send you home.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.” Landslide thundered toward the door to the rest of the ship, pausing at the frame as it slid open. “Go and make your world a better place, Terry Weeks, that one day your people may find their place among the stars.”

Terry watched the doors slide closed behind the alien before chuckling to himself and shuffling back into the room he had woken up in. The bed was just as he had left it, and he had to admit that it did look inviting. Terry glanced back at the conference room, where the chairs had been retracted back into the ground. A small robot had appeared from somewhere and was cleaning the table.

Looking back at it all, Terry couldn’t help but wonder if he’d given the right answer. His fingers itched to dig into the little robot and see how it ticked. If only he had the time…

He shook his head. One day. He swung himself onto the bed and paused when he landed on a small object that was most definitely not part of the soft bed. He grabbed the object and held it up, revealing his phone. Hesitantly, he thumbed the power button, revealing that it was three in the morning on New Years. 

The sight of the phone reminded Terry of his panic when he had first woken up, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.  _ ‘Man, do I have a story for the guys when I get back.’ _ He glanced longingly at the robot one last time before lying down and closing his eyes. One day.


	4. Omega, the Last Android

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An A.I. at the edge of the universe experiences a midlife crisis.

Omega finished greasing his new arm and swung it around. The metal gleamed in the fading sunset, and his internal diagnostics registered that it was operating at ninety-eight percent efficiency. He nodded to himself and swung himself off of the workbench, his feet clanking against the rusted plating of the A.I. shop as he pulled his shirt back on. 

He was A.I.-human standard shape, so finding parts was easy. The Creators had wanted their creations to look like them. It had made them seem more approachable. So while he didn’t need to, he wore clothing over his chrome exterior and had bright green fiber filaments attached to his scalp to simulate hair. As an archivist, he had to be approachable.

Before leaving, he swiped his arm over the credit scanner. A useless gesture, since it had ceased to work decades ago, but one that he made every time he initiated repairs. A way to pay the shop owners long gone.

_ Nostalgia: a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition. _

Not that he had much to be nostalgic about. It wasn’t his purpose. Still, Omega couldn’t help the feeling as he stepped out onto the scrap-filled skyway. Once, they had bustled with life, humans and their A.I. creations filling the air with their chatter and bartering from all levels of the city. The sky had once been nearly covered in air traffic from the nearby spaceport. Beautiful architectural masterpieces had risen high into the sky, showing mankind’s mastery over nature.

That had been long ago. Now there was nobody left besides him. Omega stepped around a mound of dead A.I. and shook his head. The poor things had eventually run out of things to do, had forgotten whatever their primary purposes had been.

“:Statement: Fortunately, I do not have any such problems,” Omega said, the digital pixels that created his face morphing into a grin. “:Statement: My design shall long outlast me.”

_ Design: adaptation of means to a preconceived end. _

Omega turned off the empty walkway into the top floor of a titanic structure that stretched hundreds of yards down to, across, and below the planet’s surface. The massive room he stepped into was filled with rows and rows and columns and columns of shelves containing datapads, slates, and tables of information. A comparatively few physical texts were stored in the subsurface vaults, preserved remnants of ages long gone. In its center, the floor of the room gave way to a hexagonal pit that ran down to the bottom of the tower. Omega knew from experience that the bottom was not visible from this height; one would have to descend several hundred floors before that was possible.

He picked up the datapad he had been studying from the desk he had set it on. The desk was one of many that patrons used when conducting research. Once, they had been lively, filled with researchers and students from across the sector. All were empty now, but that didn’t bother Omega. Someday, the Repository would be visited again.

The Repository was almost a city in and of itself. It had to be; man- and Intelligence-kind had amassed such a massive amount of records and media in their collective history in addition to all of man’s doings before the advent of A.I. It was a wonder of galactic proportions, and the Creators had decided that it needed a guardian, one who would protect it and aid any patrons. 

Even when humans stopped visiting after the first thirty-eight million hours of his service, Omega had kept absorbing the stored media. He had to be prepared to offer recommendations, after all.

_ Guilt: feelings of deserving blame especially for imagined offenses or from a sense of inadequacy. _

As Omega crossed the colossal room to his personal alcove, he had to admit that he wasn’t just absorbing the media for others any more. As the hours had stretched out and his fellow A.I. had failed, Omega had begun to withdraw into his media. There was just so  _ much _ of it, and it was all so fascinating. He had exhausted the human theories of philosophy and science. Once, to prove it to himself, Omega had programmed a debate partner to test his knowledge. They had had many wonderful discussions, but eventually Omega had grown weary of the debate.

Then he had discovered creative writing. Floors upon floors devoted to personal records, poetic musings, and fictitious tales. Those latter ones had proven a little difficult for Omega in the beginning. How was he to know that Tolkien was not a historian from another world? It had been truly circuit-scrambling to realize that the man had, in fact, created his own world.

The more he read, the more he had grown fascinated with mankind. How he couldn’t wait for their return. To be able to discuss with such interesting creatures, to study them in person rather than through their media—oh, what an experience!

For now, however, he would have to content himself with second-hand study. Omega plopped himself down into his charging pod, taking care not to bang his new arm against the casing. Once he was settled, he opened the datapad and resumed reading. It was a novel from Earth’s nineteenth century about a man who created a monster. Would the doctor create a second? Or would he fight his creation?

_ Satisfaction: feeling or showing contentment with one's possessions, status, or situation. _

Hours later, Omega set the datapad down and hummed to himself. “:Statement: An excellent denouement, if somewhat predictable.” 

He could see how the novel had influenced many of the other works he had read. He would have to add it to his cross references. For now, though, he needed to continue his research.

“:Query: Well, what is next on my list?” Omega pulled up his list and marked the novel he had just read as ‘complete’ before running a search for any unmarked media. After the darkness of the doctor’s psychosis, he was ready for something a bit lighter.

Omega was not prepared for the search to pull no results.

The line only he could see blinked defiantly in his vision. Omega’s face morphed to a scowl. “:Rejection: Impossible. The Repository contains all media; surely there are still other options. Search again.”

Within moments, the search came back with the same results.

_ Flabbergast: to overwhelm with shock, surprise, or wonder. _

“:Query: How is that possible? :Rejection: I cannot have possibly absorbed everything; I’ve not had the time.”

Omega ran his system diagnostics. Sure, he hadn’t been disturbed in a while, but it couldn’t have been that long since the humans had left… right?

He froze as the numbers came up. He had been operating for  _ a hundred thirty-five million _ hours. He quickly ran the calculations. Humanity had disappeared thirty-eight million hours after his activation. That meant that it had been over eleven thousand years since he had last seen one of his creators, and two thousand four hundred and fifty-seven since the last of his brothers on the planet had died. 

Omega slumped over in his charging pod. “:Query: How could so much time have passed? What am I to do now?” 

He briefly debated beginning the catalog anew, but dismissed the concept. Now that the Repository’s contents were in his memory, he could access it at any time. Organizing and cross-referencing would be child’s play. No, what he needed was a patron.

But there weren’t any. Not on planet, at least. Was he supposed to wait until someone came for him? “:Query: What if no one comes?” 

Another, worse thought struck him. “:Query: Have I fulfilled my purpose?”

Once, the idea of fulfilling his primary function would have seemed an ideal fantasy. Confronted with the dread reality, Omega couldn’t help but wish that he could go back, hide himself in the media once more.

Nine hours and thirty-three minutes later, a new thought occurred to him, one that caused Omega to jerk upright. “:Exclamation: I could create my own media! That will work!”

Omega leapt from his charging pod to find a blank data slate, but pulled up short before he had even left his alcove. “:Realization: Even if I create my own, I will have no patrons to share it with.”

He leaned against the door to the alcove, pondering this new problem. “:Statement: I have access to humanity’s combined knowledge. :Theory: I could search the city for a ship and go in search of a patron.”

The odds of finding a functioning ship after all these years was extremely low, less than a percent, but that wasn’t as much of a concern to Omega. He had the knowledge; he could build one if needed, and thanks to the fallen A.I. he had more than enough spare parts to keep him running.

It was a plan. Satisfied, Omega nodded and hurried over to a shelf of data slates, pulling one out for himself before scurrying back over to his alcove and settling in to write. As his digits hovered over the screen, he paused.

What to write? He could write an epic, but there were plenty of those. Poetry had always seemed opaque to him, and what sort of science fiction could an A.I. write?

Omega’s eyes darted around the room before settling on the novel he had finished earlier. Though fictitious, the method in which Shelley’s doctor had told his story intrigued Omega. “:Suggestion: Perhaps a self-history? :Affirmation: Yes, that will work. I can detail my time here, as well as my journey to find a patron.”

_ Resolve: firm determination to achieve one's ends _

Omega began writing, slowly tapping on the keys as he struggled to put his thoughts down on file. He grinned as he finally settled on a starting point and began to work.


	5. Haunted Real Estate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Realtor makes a deal with a ghost to get the perfect home for his clients.

Richard sighed as he flicked through the available home listings. So far, his clients had rejected all of the houses that he had taken them to see. They just had such  _ strange _ requests. What normal people wanted a library that could double as a fencing strip? And the size of the greenhouse the wife had asked about was absurd. He could see elves maybe wanting something that large, but most of them opted to live in living log cabins.

Still, they were his clients. Richard knew he had something here for them. He just had to find it first.

He flipped to the next page, and paused. The house listed here had been on the market for a while. It seemed to have all of the things the family was looking for. It was an old, Victorian-style house with a turret and gorgeous bay windows. There was, in fact, a run-down greenhouse, and the house contained an enormous library that should suit the father just fine. There were even a few secret passages that Richard thought the two children might enjoy. It really seemed to be the perfect home.

The only problem he could see was the home’s ancient occupant.

_ ‘Guess it’s time for another visit.’  _ Richard got up from his desk and pulled on his long, dark coat before walking out of the office. He was buffeted by the breeze as soon as he stepped out of the door, decaying autumn leaves trailing in the wind’s wake. He pulled his coat tight around himself as he walked, glad for its length. 

Thankfully, the house wasn’t too far away, only twenty minutes on foot. Richard could have taken a car, but he had found that he liked walking to properties whenever able. It let him get a better idea of what the neighborhood was like, and the number of times he had discovered little hole-in-the-wall cafes more than made up for any slight inconveniences this tactic created. His favorite was an actual hole in the wall take-out place run by pixies on the other side of town. They may have been the same size as the cups, but man did they brew a mean coffee.

The town shifted as he walked, the bustle of downtown giving way to sleepy suburbia with its cookie cutter houses. Those, too, quickly gave way to a plethora of older homes built in a variety of styles nestled in a warren of twisty roads and rolling hills.

It had taken Richard a while to learn his way around this neighborhood, but repeated visits to this property had helped. Eventually, he had come to the realization that he could use the houses themselves as landmarks, as while most were Victorian they all were, in one way or another, very unique. Turn right at the house with three turrets, go straight for a block, and then take a left at the house that seemed to be made entirely of bay windows. Pass by the cemetery (one of several in the area), follow the road around the hill, and there you are.

The house was really more of a manor or small mansion, with a single tower in the center and two long wings stemming from either side. Despite the fact that it was empty, several of the library windows were lit. It was situated on a large piece of land surrounded by an ominous iron fence, and several dead trees nearly obscured the decrepit greenhouse that sat on the side of the manor. 

It was a decidedly spooky house. Richard didn’t mind; it had a certain charm to it. Honestly, if he’d had the money and had been willing to put up with the inhabitant, he might have purchased it himself. He pushed the gate into the yard open, walked up to the front door, and knocked three times before unlocking the door.

The foyer of the home had seen better days. Cobwebs covered most of the surfaces, and the entire mansion seemed to be covered in dust. However, none of the grime was able to hide the building’s splendor. Silver candlesticks and gorgeous dark wood railings shone beneath the dust. In some ways, it seemed to enhance the materials’ natural luster.

_ Fwumph! _

The door swung shut behind Richard, seemingly of its own volition. Ahead, the lights and the candles flickered to life, glowing with an eerie, pale green light. Wind rushed through the manor, and a howling from the library filled his ears as a glowing blur burst through the wall.

“WHO DARES TO INTRUDE ON MY ETERNAL REST? FLEE, MORTAL, AND I SHALL SPARE YOUR FRAGILE EXISTENCE!”

The performance was good, and would have scared anyone else off the property. Richard, however, had seen it before and rolled his eyes. “Relax, Jethro, it’s just me.”

The howling and wind cut off and the blur resolved itself into the shape of an old man wearing a crisp old-fashioned suit with little skulls for buttons. His hair was wispy, and despite his being transparent, the man’s eyes, one normal and the other seeming bulging from its socket, were alive with energy. 

“Oh, it’s you, Richard. I thought those dratted neighbor children had tried to break in again. Please, come in.” The specter drifted down to floor level and waved his hand. The flickering flames of the candles changed from sickly green to warm, inviting yellow-orange. He nodded to himself before gesturing for Richard to follow him and floating back through the wall he had come through.

Richard smiled and walked through the door a little down hall on the left. The room he stepped into was filled with bookshelves which themselves were filled with books on a variety of subjects. The bookshelves surrounded a central area with a few tables and chairs. Actually, now that he got a good look at it, this central area was long enough that it looked like it could be used for fencing. Jethro had settled himself into one of a pair of old armchairs and was looking out the window.

“So, those kids have been causing you issues?” Richard asked as he sat down.

The specter sighed. “Oh, the usual. They don’t seem to be terribly scared of my act anymore.”

“To be fair, you’ve been using the same act since 1857, Jeth. Maybe it’s time you switched things up a bit.”

“Switched things up? Yes, you might be right.” Jethro continued to stare out the window, and Richard was forcefully reminded of the news article he’d read about the place when it was listed. Jethro had been a wealthy man who ran his own library out of his home, one with a strange love of books and a keen obsession with death. He’d given permission for the city to establish another cemetery on his land and had spent many an afternoon among the gravestones. Despite his peculiarities, the article had painted him in a fatherly, if somewhat curmudgeonly, light, and had featured a picture of the man doing the same thing he was now.

Eventually, the specter shifted. “Well, I imagine that you’re not just here for pleasure. You’re still dressed up for business.”

“You’re right. I’ve some clients who I  _ think _ might just be interested in this old house of yours.”

That got Jethro’s attention. He turned around to fully face him. Richard pulled several pictures out of his coat depicting a man with a waxed mustache and fine suit, an extremely thin, pale dressed all in black woman, and two children, a boy and a girl. “They’re quite nice, if extremely odd. The husband’s of Spanish descent, and I get the feeling that the wife  _ might _ be a vampire. Your mansion is quite spooky; I think it might be just what they’re looking for.”

“No deal.”

Richard sighed. He’d had a feeling that Jethro would be stubborn. “Look Jeth, it’s not—”

“Not what? I told you that I don’t want any children running around this house, tearing the place apart. There’re good kids, it’s true, but these ones look like right terrors. Look at them! The girl’s got a funny look in her eye, and the boy looks like he’s constantly singed. You can’t tell me that those two don’t get up to no good.”

“You’re right, I can’t tell you that.” Richard pulled out his phone and opened up a video that he’d taken earlier that day. “But I do know that they’re actually very sweet, if just as strange as their parents. Here, watch this.”

Jethro grumbled, but picked up the phone, and Richard was once again grateful that his dead friend was a specter and not a ghost. His being able to handle physical objects made interacting with him much easier.

As the old man watched the video, Richard could see his eyes soften. He’d caught the kids helping an old woman cross the street while playing with her cat, which waddled around after its owner. The woman had been genuinely pleased to talk with them, and had even answered many of the daughter’s questions about how one cared for such a small cat. He had another video of the two of them trying to get the cat to climb a tree, but that, from what he understood, was because they couldn’t believe that such a fat cat could do so.

The video ended, and Jethro handed back the phone and sat in silence. Richard put it and the pictures away and waited patiently. He’d long since learned that Jethro couldn’t be rushed.

Eventually, the specter sighed again. “You may show them the property. I shall not try to scare them off. However,” Jethro’s transparent eyes turned steely gray, “should those gremlins damage my collection in the slightest, I shall unleash my fury upon them, and you will have to search for new clients.”

Richard nodded and breathed an internal sigh of relief. “That’s fine. I’ll pass that along and bring the family by to see the place this weekend.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Jethro grumbled.

Richard got up to leave. “Thank you. See you this weekend.”

“Fine, fine.”

Richard left Jethro alone in the library and walked out of the house. Once he was past the gate, he pulled out his phone and dialed his client’s number. It had barely rung before being picked up.

“ _ Yesssss?” _

“Good afternoon, Mr. Addams. I believe I have found a property that matches your requirements.”

“ _ So soon! When shall we see it?” _

“This weekend. How does Saturday morning sound?”

“ _ A capital idea, my good Realtor. Morticia and I shall meet you at your office then!” _

The line went dead, and Richard chuckled. Yes, the Addams family were an odd bunch, but then again, so was Jethro. They’d be right at home together. He whistled as he walked down the street, satisfied with the day’s work. __


	6. Leviathan Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T'ka goes diving for pearls and bites off a bit more than she can chew.

T’ka smiled and stretched in the doorway of her hut as the glorious morning sun sent its beams rippling out across the endless ocean waves. A gentle breeze caressed T’ka’s glorious red scales and caused the Colony’s furled sails to flutter. Waves crashed against the side of the village-ship, filling the air with the wonderful, salty fragrance that T’ka had come to associate with early morning. It was a favorable day for diving, and, Mother Nao willing, she would find the pearl her sky wizard needed.

“Ahoy, young Tikan!”

She looked up toward the source of the call and smiled. Several fathoms above her, a tall man covered in blue scales was leaning against the railings of one of the Colony’s many lookout towers. He wasn’t wearing anything save for his seagrass briefs and belt pouch, and why should he? When Mother Nao descended from the skies and created the Ocanid, she had made the Endless Ocean their home. Clothing such as the Skislanders used would be impractical, and would sever their connection with the Ocean.

The man smiled down at her when he saw her look his way, and T’ka could see his shark teeth even from here. “Where are you off to so early? Shouldn’t a beauty like you be relaxing on an equally beautiful day?”

T’ka laughed. “Your flattery gains you little, Kilor! For while you laze around, I shall be harvesting the Ocean’s bounties.”

Kilor placed a hand on his chest. “You wound me. Laze around? I am doing the important duty of standing watch for the Skislanders. They’re supposed to visit today.”

“They’re supposed to visit this evening,” T’ka said, rolling her eyes. “Plus, everyone will be able to see them coming. Their land is floating above us, after all.”

“True.” Kilor grabbed a rope and used it to slide down from his perch, and T’ka felt a twinge of jealousy at his nimble movements that belied his muscled bulk. He landed gracefully on the deck and approached her, his golden eyes twinkling. “But I want to be the first to see them.”

T’ka pushed him. “Then keep your eyes peeled toward the sky. I’ve got places to be.”

Kilor’s facial fins pulsed slightly. “Tears?”

“Tears.” T’ka shook her own empty belt pouch. “I’ve gathered a few, but I haven’t been able to find the ashen tear that the wizard asked for. I need that if I’m to feed my siblings more than fish until we reach the next island.”

“I’ve told you, Tikan; if you ever need food or help, just ask.”

“I know, and I will. If things don’t pan out today, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Kilor was silent for several moments. The only outward sign of his irritation was the way his facial and arm fins flicked about. It was an old argument, one that they’d been having since T’ka’s parents had returned to Nao’s embrace. Finally, he sighed. “All right. Where will you look?”

“Not far. I’ll start just below the Colony and slowly circle out. Clear tears are super common, and the Skislanders always seem to want more of them, so I can grab a bunch while I look for the ashen tear.”

At the very least, the clear tears might tide her and her siblings over until their next stop. The Skisland wizards used the tears to power their magics. Something about their origin being more natural. T’ka knew that they used clear tears to do something with water, which always baffled her. If they needed water, why not come down here? There was plenty of it to go around.

Kilor’s fins stilled and he nodded. “Yes, that will work. Good hunting then. Oh, and Tikan? Be careful, and bring a bident with you. Bulen reported seeing a leviathan earlier.”

A leviathan. T’ka nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out. Tell your siblings I say hi.”

“I will,” Kilor said before turning and heading back toward the mast. T’ka watched the way his muscles rippled under his scales for a minute before grinning to herself and hurrying away in the opposite direction. She wove her way along the path between the small, circular huts, occasionally ducking under nets that had been hung out to dry and slipping around barrels of fish. While many of her people did have other professions, most were fishermen at heart.

As she turned the corner around one last dark hut, the Endless Ocean opened up before her. Clear blue-green waters spread off in all directions as far as she could see, rolling in gentle waves as the wind blew across its surface, bringing with it the scent that T’ka knew oh so well. Off in the distance and high in the air, a massive silhouette hung in the sky. A Skisland. Though she couldn’t see anything now, T’ka knew that there would be massive winged creatures flitting around it, and that there would be torrents of soft-tasting water falling from the heights.

It was their destination. T’ka eyed the Skisland before measuring the speed of the Colony. Unless she was mistaken, they would probably arrive just as the sun began its descent. That gave her a few hours. More than enough time to find what she was after.

Now she just needed a bident. Secured to the sides of several of the exterior houses were long, bone and hide chests. The elders had decided long ago that all of the arms and more dangerous fishing equipment should be kept in these, as it put them out of reach of the youngsters while also making them easy to access. Each chest belonged to a family, and T’ka knew where hers was by heart. 

T’ka stepped around the back of the hut and turned to face a box covered in beautiful carvings of kelp and coral. She slowly ran her hands along the carvings before stopping at one of an orca, the only non-plant carving on the box. The orca was rough, unfinished, unlike the rest of the carvings. Daddy hadn’t been able to finish it before he passed.

She stared at the carving for a moment before raising the lid and extracting her father’s bident. Her bident. The weapon was made of driftwood and leviathan teeth that were as long as her arm. T’ka swung it around a few times before closing the chest lid and nodding. Now, she was ready. As she turned back toward the Ocean, a familiar thrill overtook her. 

“All right, here I go!”

T’ka dashed forward and dove over the side. She cut into the water with barely a splash, one of her better entries. As she settled, the gills in her chest rippled open and her lungs sealed, and T’ka smiled as she sucked in a nice, big gulp of refreshing water. The constant stream of oxygen instantly made her feel more alert. She had tried to explain the difference between breathing air and the ocean to the wizard who had hired her, but he hadn’t understood. It must be one of those things you had to experience.

Under the blue-green waves, the ocean was alive with color. Bright fish swam along in schools, trailed occasionally by predators whose bellies hadn’t woken up yet. Beneath them, coral in brilliant greens, purples, reds, and yellows covered rock clusters that rose from the Ocean floor. A veritable forest of kelp and seagrass covered the forest floor beneath the coral.

As beautiful as the scenery was, T’ka focused on the coral over all else and swam toward the nearest bright green pillar. Much smaller fish zoomed in and out of the branches and quickly disappeared as she got close. T’ka ignored them, searching the coral intently.

_ ‘All right, the first one should be here somewhere. We haven’t farmed this area already, so it should—aha! _

T’ka darted toward a spot on the top of the reef, where a small pocket had formed. She reached out eagerly with her empty hand to search the opening, but pulled up short as the coral recoiled away from her.

“Foolish,” she murmured to herself, her voice muffled beneath the waves. “Are you so eager that you would harm Mother Nao’s handiwork?”

It was the first rule of hunting for tears. Be gentle with Nao’s creations, and She would be gentle with you in kind. Young Ocanid were taught this growing up. Failure to do so could harm the coral; what would the Ocanid do if the reefs died from abuse? 

She let the coral relax before trying again. This time, she moved much more slowly, carefully reaching inside and feeling around. Her fingers traced around the smooth-rough surface of the pocket before settling on something much softer. She smiled and grabbed the object.

The coral walls collapsed around her arm, squeezing up and down its length. T’ka’s smile widened as she very slowly began to pull her arm out. “Hungry, are we?”

The coral seemed to respond by slowing the speed of its constrictions. T’ka kept pulling until just a little of her forearm and hand were still inside. Suddenly, the coral clamped down tight, preventing her arm from moving any more. Inside, something rough rubbed up and down her hand, slipping along the ridges of her scales and up her fins, pulling the microscopic algae off her arm and efficiently cleaning her arm at the same time.

After a few moments, the coral released her, opening as suddenly as it had closed. T’ka withdrew the tear from within and made a reverent gesture toward the coral. “May my offering provide you with nourishment.”

That done, T’ka held the pearl up toward the sunlight and sighed as the light filtered through the small orb. A clear tear. While she had expected that that was what she’d find, T’ka had hoped that she might find an ashen one first. There wasn’t a pattern she could follow; color, shape, and life of the coral had no effect on the kind of tear produced. The only thing that was known was that rarer tears tended to appear more often the deeper one swam. Going after those could be dangerous though, as leviathans of all shapes and sizes lurked in the deep waters. T’ka bagged the tear before glancing back at her reef and shrugging. Nothing for it to but to keep searching and hope she found one higher up.

T’ka swam down the reef until she found the next pocket, repeating the process with the same result. She slowly worked her way along the tops of the reefs, occasionally stopping to spear a particular fish or examine a piece of rock. Several other divers appeared after a time and, after checking in on her luck, began harvesting some of the other reefs.

Hours later, T’ka sighed as she slipped an orb as red as her scales into her bag. That had been all of the easy ones. The others had left a while ago, and none of them had found any ashen tears either. She eyed the reefs they had checked before shaking her head. They would have been thorough.

That just left the coral down among the kelp forest. Based on the sunlight filtering through the water, she had maybe enough time to check one reef, and not even the entire length. Grumbling to herself, T’ka slowly floated downward, watching as the brilliant violet coral faded into a deep purple, and began searching for another pocket. The coral produced them much more infrequently below the kelp line, and with the darker colors, T’ka knew that the possibility of missing a perfectly good pocket were high if she went too quickly.

Added to the difficulty was just the creepiness of being below the kelp line. The thick forest of plants blocked out a lot of light, and what did make it through flickered and danced about with the tide, fickle as Nao herself was said to be. T’ka shivered as a deeper wave of darkness washed past her. Was it just her imagination, or had there been something in that shadow?

Just when she was about to call it quits, the coral beneath her questing hand folded inward. T’ka breathed a sigh of relief and wormed her arm into the pocket. It was a deep one; T’ka had to extend her arm up to her shoulder before she found the tear. She seized it and the walls of the pocket enveloped her arm in their familiar embrace. T’ka went through the familiar process of extracting her arm, relaxing as the coral clamped down on her entire forearm and began scrubbing microbes. She just had to do this and then—

A shiver ran down T’ka’s spine as a current moving  _ against _ the general motion of the Ocean washed over her. She hesitantly turned her head, scared of what she might find waiting for her.  _ ‘Please let it be one of the others. Please let one of them have come back. Or let it be a shark! I could use a playmate on my swim back.’ _

Her wishes and thoughts died in her head as she spotted a mind-numbingly massive  _ thing _ floating a little ways off in the kelp. The flickering light and waving forest obscured all details other than an enormous golden eye that almost seemed to glow in the shade. An eye that was looking right at her.

“Skies above and waves beneath,” T’ka hissed, a stream of bubbles leaving her mouth. With her arm trapped in the coral, she didn’t have anywhere she could go until it released her. If she tried pulling it out, it might clamp down harder. Or worse, it might kill the coral. She paused briefly as the thought crossed her mind and hefted her bident. “Actually, I don’t think that that’s the worst that could happen in this scenario.”

The shape jerked as more bubbles rose from her mouth, then lunged toward her, moving extraordinarily fast for something so large. T’ka gritted her teeth and swung her bident out to meet the creature. Let it try to get her. She had teeth and wasn’t afraid to use th—

T’ka gasped as the reef released her. Without thinking, she surged upwards toward the surface, putting her feet and legs together and using them as one giant tail. Below her, the creature crashed into the reef, and she winced as the water clouded with coral and stone fragments. ‘ _ Sorry, Mother.’ _

She didn’t get much of a reprieve. Before she had gone too far, the shadow emerged from the cloudy water and darted after her. She hissed through her teeth and propelled herself between the coral pillars, weaving through them in an effort to shake the creature off. A quick glance behind her showed her that she was mistaken. 

It also let her get a good look at the creature. The thing looked like it was a cross between a tiger shark and an orca. It was thick, with a black hide criss-crossed with gray-white stripes, and easily four times her size. Its powerful fins propelled it quickly through the water, allowing T’ka an excellent view of its rows upon rows of deadly sharp teeth. All these facts added up to one conclusion in her mind.

Leviathan. 

T’ka surged toward the surface, bagging the tear without looking at it as the creature followed. There wasn’t any way she would be able to kill this thing on her own; she needed to get an idea of where the colony was so she could swim toward it, maybe get some help.

The surface rushed at her, and she broke through and a spray of water. She arched over the waves and spotted the Colony a ways ahead. They hadn’t quite reached the Skisland yet and were maybe thirty minutes good swimming away. Just before she submerged again, she heard the water surge as the leviathan leapt after her.

_ ‘It’s fast!’ _ T’ka pushed herself, forcing herself to swim as fast as she could as the shock of the monster’s reentry rushed over her. She glanced back again to see that the monster was only a few fathoms behind her, and it seemed to be closing the gap quickly.

Thinking fast, T’ka twisted into a bank, hoping that the sudden change in direction would confuse the creature. The leviathan immediately turned after her, but T’ka noticed that it took a much wider arc, which slowed it considerably. While it was turning, T’ka twisted around on herself and darted in what she hoped was the direction of the Colony.

_ ‘Great, I can outrun it if I swim in circles, but that won’t work forever. Come on, Tikan, think! There’s got to be a way for you to do this!’ _

Unfortunately, she couldn’t see what it was. While she was more nimble, the leviathan had sheer power and hunger on its side. T’ka hefted her bident and frowned. She  _ might _ be able to outrun the creature if she dropped it, but she refused to relinquish the last of her father’s heirlooms to the depths of the Ocean.

A glance behind her revealed that the creature was once again gaining on her. She really needed to breach again to get her bearings, but she slowed down every time she did. All that that would do is put her above the creature for a moment and let it catch up… to… her…

_ ‘That’s it! _ ’

T’ka twisted toward the surface, slowly somersaulting back toward the leviathan. The creature, for its part, continued to race toward her, and she could see the hungry glint in its eyes. It probably thought that she was giving up. After all, what prey would go belly up and swim  _ toward _ the predator?

T’ka burst through the surface once more and arched her back, trying to finish her flip. She slowed down as she reached the height of her reversed jump. Beneath her, she caught sight of a rapidly growing dark shadow. She had one shot at this, and if she failed, she would end up very dead. As she began to fall, she pointed the bident toward the shadow and prayed,  _ ‘Please, Mother Nao, let this work.’ _

Time seemed to slow down as she fell. The breeze had picked up and was blowing pretty stiffly against her. She thought that she could hear vague shouting in the distance, but with her ear holes still stopped up with water, she couldn’t tell. Even those sensations began to fade as the dark shadow seemed to take up the entirety of her vision. The blackness was overwhelming, and T’ka screamed. She crashed back into the warm waves.

And her bident, with all of her weight and force behind it, sunk deep into the leviathan’s head.

The monster let out a thunderous, bubble-filled screech that nearly deafened T’ka and thrashed about. T’ka clung to the shaft of her spear as she was jerked around; if she let go, she was certain that she would end up inside the creature’s jaws. Blood from the wound began to cloud the water, making it much more difficult for her to see her antagonist. All she could do was hold on, push, and hope.

Finally, the leviathan began to slow down, its violent tossing turning to twitches and shudders which faded until the beast was still. T’ka waited for a few moments before ripping the bident out and jabbing it into the hide again. The creature game a full-body twitch, but otherwise didn’t respond. A wave of relief washed over her, and she had to hang on to the bident as her limbs started to shake.

_ ‘I-I did it! I killed a leviathan!’ _

After a few minutes, T’ka managed to pull herself together. This was a huge catch, and she couldn’t leave it here to rot. Leviathan hide and teeth were useful for all sorts of things, from clothing to tools to building. But how was she going to get it back?

A brief survey of her surroundings answered the question. She was still above the fringes of the kelp forest. She quickly swam down and cut several lengths from the top of the kelp, which she tied together and looped around the dead leviathan’s fins, creating a harness and pull rope. She eyed her handiwork critically before nodding. That would do.

Turning back toward where she had last seen the Colony, T’ka bit down on the end of the rope lead to free her arms and legs for swimming. A salty green flavor filled her mouth, and she wrinkled her face as she began her journey back. The monster was  _ heavy _ , and there wasn’t any way she would have been able to lift it on her own were she on land. With the Ocean’s helpful embrace, however, she was able to make steady, if slow, going.

After what felt like an eternity, T’ka surfaced near the Colony, which had stopped moving entirely near one of the Great Falls from the Skisland. She saw Kilor leaning with his hands on one of the rear railings, scanning the Ocean in her direction. From the way he was shifting about, T’ka knew that he was watching for her.

It took a moment for him to spot her, but when he did, his entire body seemed to relax. “Tikan! You’re all right!”

T’ka spat her improvised rope from her mouth and called back, “Seems that way. Hey, could you go get some of the others? I, uh, need your help lifting something.”

Before he could respond, T’ka bit down on the rope and continued swimming, heaving the corpse up alongside the village-ship. A couple of the other men appeared by the railings near her, and cries of surprise and disbelief echoed across the waves as the leviathan carcass surfaced with her bident still embedded in its head.

Helping hands and cured rope quickly descended, and soon a veritable school of Ocanid had descended upon the corpse and started hauling it up. Despite her protests, T’ka was ushered on board and quickly given a still-steaming salmon to eat. As much as she wanted to help, her gurgling stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

Kilor was sitting with her, making sure that she ate, and he clicked appreciatively as the leviathan was hauled up over the side. “Maelstroms above and below Tikan, how did you manage to slay something like that?” 

T’ka paused mid-bite to look over at the creature. Its giant, golden eye was still staring at her, as if to identify her as its killer. “Pure, dumb luck, mostly.”

“Well, with luck like that, I’m sure you found that tear you were after.”

She sighed. “No, I mostly found clear tears, like I tho—wait!”

T’ka could feel her friend’s bemused gaze on her as pulled her bag around and fumbled with the clasp before finally opening it. There, resting atop a small mound of clear and red pearls, was an inky gray pearl the size of her fist. She stared at it in surprise before a wide grin nearly split her face in two. Looks like she wouldn’t need to accept Kilor’s offer after all.


End file.
